Bloody Murder
by Paisley Mae
Summary: After finding his wife in a pool of her own blood and his children missing, Derek Shepherd soon becomes the prime suspect in the investigation. [Includes all characters from season 10]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know it seems like I'm always doing horrible things to Meredith in my stories, which is kind of ironic, because she's my favorite character. I tend to torture my favorite characters the most. Anyway, this is different than any story I've ever written, so I'm not sure how it's going to be received by the fandom. Please review.**

* * *

His cell phone tells him it's seven o'clock. The outdoors reflects a dark and gloomy setting. Buckets of rain drop down on the fine city of Seattle. It's a chilly rain that washes away the little residue that remains of the day prior's snowfall. The air is moist and damp, and the temperature has risen to ten degrees above freezing. He breathes in a deep sigh, grateful that the temperature isn't any colder, because then the rain would turn to ice and the roads would be slippery as death. He cackles, focusing at his own foreshadowing thought.

The gravel road is wet and muddy. When he arrives at his destination, he is careful to drive over the mudded tire tracks that are already embedded in the soil. He knows the police can trace the tracks on his car. He parks his car in front of the garage. Before getting out of the car, he looks around his surroundings. The house is wood and there are many windows that surround the house. There's a chimney, so he assumes the house has a fancy fireplace. The inside of the house is lit up with dim lights. He wonders how high their electric bill is, though not like it matters, because two surgeons like themselves are making enough money to have five houses.

Quickly, he reaches for his weapon. He holds the metal scalpel in his gloved hand and opens his truck door, and then steps out before realizing the mistake he may have just made. He looks down at the footprint he's just created with his boot. He swallows, before stepping into the grass to wipe the mud off his feet. He hopes the rain will wash away the mud before the police start their investigation. He inhales a deep breath of the cold, damp air, and he begins his way to the front door.

She's not expecting him, so he knows she'll be surprised to see him. He's the last person she would expect to show up at her house on this rainy evening. He rings the doorbell and waits. When there is no answer, he rings it again.

He hears a baby crying behind the door and soon the door opens. She's holding her crying son in her arms. He's wearing blue-striped shirt and blue jean overalls. The outfit makes the little boy's eyes stand out. The baby boy's shiny blue eyes look up at him. He continues to scream.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses hoarsely. Her hair is down, and she's wearing blue jeans and a red sweater. She's not wearing make-up. He can tell she's shocked, as he expected. The dark circles around her eyes make it evident that she's tired, as well. Her eyes red and puffy too. Has she been crying? Or, perhaps she has a cold. Even with puffy eyes, she looks beautiful.

"I need to talk to you," he says. He clenches the scalpel in his pocket. He looks at the baby in her arm, and his heart melts. He stops crying and he can tell the baby is intently watching him. He smiles at the baby, and the baby smiles back. He notes how the baby has his father's eyes but all his other features are from his mother. He's not a baby killer, and he wants to avoid hurting the baby.

She releases a sigh and reluctantly lets him in. She points to the coat hanger and tells him he can hang his coat there. He insists on keeping it on. He takes his boots off, though, and sets them on the mat next to a pair of pink girls' sneakers.

She guides him into the living room, where her daughter is having a tea party. The little girl looks timidly at him. He's met the little girl before, but he's not surprised that she doesn't remember him.

He watches as she sets her son his swing and turns toward him. "What do you want to talk about?" she asks; there's not an ounce of fear in her face.

She sits down, and he's fiddling with the scalpel in his coat pocket. He smiles cunningly. "I was hoping we could talk privately," he says, looking over at the children. He doesn't want an audience, more less an audience of children. They shouldn't have to watch.

He can see the confusion on her face. "They're kids," she says. "You can talk to me in front of my kids. It's okay." She says his name again, and she leans over and puts her son's pacifier in his mouth. The baby sucks gently on the orange pacifier.

"I really don't want to do this," he sneers, as he pulls out the scalpel. "But you leave me no choice." He takes the scalpel and holds it up to her neck. The baby spits his pacifier out and begins to cry again. The little girl is looking at him now, too. Her eyes are wide.

She calls the little girl's name and tells her to take the baby into her room. The little girl complies and pulls her brother out of the swing and takes him out of the room.

She utters his name calmly. "Okay, we're alone. We can talk now. You don't need to hold a scalpel to my neck."

He smirks. "You see, I didn't really want to talk. I have a job I came to do." He wraps his hand around her frail neck, and she gasps for air. She tries to kick him, but he's much stronger than her. He throws her off the couch, and her head hits against the wooden floor. He sees that she's still conscious, as she tries to get up. He grabs her by the feet and drags her across the foyer toward a bedroom.

He sees the little girl peeking through her bedroom. Tears are pouring out of her eyes. "Momma!" she cries. "Don't hurt my momma!"

"Stay back, sweetie!" her mother cries to the little girl. Her voice is dull and raspy. "Stay in your room and close the door."

The little girl is crying harder, but she listens to her mother's commands. He drags the woman into the bedroom and prepares to make his incisions. She's crying when he bashes her head against the wall of her bedroom. She's lying on her back, face up, on the side of the bed that isn't visible when a person enters the bedroom, when he slices into her carotid artery. Blood begins oozing out of her neck and he makes another slice. He looks at the clock. Twenty minutes have passed since he first arrived. He knows he doesn't have much time left.

He watches as the blood pours out of her tiny frail body. She's now gasping for air as he makes another slice into her neck. He wants to make sure the job is done thoroughly. The blood seeps into the hardwood floor as a pool of blood forms. Her face is paling. Her blue eyes were dimming, as they stared right at him. Her mouth was open and the fear was evident in her face. Her body stiffened and her face froze. The face of death was upon it.

He knows the clock is ticking. Her husband can be home any minute. He has to get out soon. He goes in the bathroom and rinses the blood off the scalpel. He then sets the scalpel on top of the dresser, where he knows it will be found during a search of the home, and he also knows who had been the last person to use the particular scalpel, and that person's fingerprints will likely be all over it.

Now, he is ready to leave. As he's putting on his boots, he hears the baby's screams.

* * *

_Five Hours Earlier…_

Two o'clock. It was two o'clock and Meredith Grey had nothing left to do. She had no consults. No surgeries. Nothing. She felt completely and utterly useless.

Cristina, her so-called friend, had taken over her printer, so her research was put on hold. Since she'd planned on focusing her research today, she hadn't scheduled any surgeries. Cristina had created a medical miracle with the 3-D printer, so of course she would want to use it more. It was her printer, though, that she had gotten for her research grant. Of course her research was experimental, and Cristina was out there saving lives. Meredith was still bitter that her research was put on halt. After all, if she hadn't gotten the 3-D printer in the first place, then Cristina would have had a chance to use it. Nonetheless, she felt betrayed by the person she thought was her best friend.

She felt like she hadn't seen her kids in eons, so she was prepared to take the evening off and spend it with the kids. Derek's idea of him spending less time working and more time with the kids so she could shine was an idea that she could feel draining away quickly. Derek had hit a major breakthrough with his research last week, and he'd been spending more hours at the hospital. She hardly saw her husband anymore, and she couldn't even remember the last time they'd had sex. She couldn't even remember the last time they were home with the kids together while they were all awake.

Meredith entered her husband's office, where she found Callie and Derek standing over the computer.

"Anything interesting?" she formed a smile and stood behind her husband. He turned around.

"Hey," he grinned and gave her a peck on the lips. "Haven't seen you around."

"Oh, yeah, you know, I've been pretty busy having my research destroyed, but no big deal," she shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked, she sensed the perplexity in his tired-looking eyes. He hadn't been sleeping much lately. She would come home to find him lying in bed, seemingly lost in his laptop. He would be on it when she went to sleep and on it when she woke up. She didn't say anything before he widened his eyes. "I heard Cristina's surgery was a success."

"And that's great and all, but that doesn't give her a right to take over my printer, thus halting my research," insisted Meredith, rolling her eyes. Derek and Callie exchanged looks.

"It's the hospital's printer," noted Callie. Meredith scoffed. "And if you have a concern, you should go to the board."

"And that's going to go over real well," Meredith said with a scowl. "You know, you're right. It's the hospital's printer, and Cristina did save that baby's life, which is great. What I could propose to the board, though, is we order another printer." She widened her eyes.

"I would back you on that proposal, Meredith, but we barely afforded the first one," Derek noted and kissed his wife's forehead. "You'll figure it out. You always do. I believe in you."

She sighed, "We'll see about that. Anyway, I was just dropping by to let you know that I'm going to take the kids home. I think a night off is warranted after this mess."

"Probably not a bad idea," Derek said, adding, "and the kids would love it."

"Yeah, well, I'll see you at home," Meredith said, leaving.

Derek Shepherd didn't know at the time that was the last time he would see his wife alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just going to note that this takes place between 10x11 and 10x12 (when I started writing this). I try to keep my stories as canon as possible, so events involving 10x11 and 10x12 will be included, but of course they will be slightly AU because Meredith is, regrettably, dead. (I know, I normally wouldn't enjoy a story where Meredith dies, either, but there are some interesting devices in this story that I'm looking forward to writing).**

* * *

It's now half past nine. The rain has lightened to a normal winter mist. It's dark, and the beams from Derek Shepherd's car's headlights guide him through the Seattle scenery as he heads toward his house in the woods. His breath smells of bourbon, but he's not drunk. He's only had one drink, so he's sure that his blood alcohol content is well below the legal limit. Still, he knows it should be at zero. He shouldn't have had that drink, but what's done is done. His wife is going to kill him.

_What she doesn't know won't hurt her_, he recounts in his head. He pops a breath mint in his mouth and twirls it around with his tongue. The statement is nonsense, because he knows she'll find out. She won't be hurt by not knowing, be he knows she'll eventually find out. She has her ways, and it is how she'll find out that will hurt; and he knows it will be much better if she finds out from him.

He decides that he'll tell her everything. Their relationship isn't one that is built off lies. He's lied to Meredith once, and he paid the price afterward. He spent years building her trust again, and he doesn't want to lose it now. So, he knows he has to be completely honest with her. He'll tell her about the bar, and then he'll tell her how his lips were met with unwanted lips. He knows he's done nothing wrong. He did not kiss her back, after all.

Derek pulls into his muddy driveway. He's been meaning to have it cemented, but he hasn't gotten around to it yet. He parks next to his wife's car. He's also been meaning to build a garage. Once the house was finished, and he was discharged from the hospital after the plane crash, he and Meredith were so quick to move into their newly finished home. Building the garage was put on the back burner. Besides, garages are only useful in snowy places and when it hails. They live in Seattle, where it barely snows, and it's grey and rainy all winter long. Building a garage isn't on Derek's priority list right now.

He shifts the car into park and takes a deep breath. He looks up at his house, the one he built with his bare hands. He shakes his head and smiles when he sees it's all lit up. He imagines his wife inside, reading his kids a goodnight story, and then giving them goodnight kisses on their foreheads before turning off their bedroom light. The kids' room is on the other side of the house, so he can't tell if the light is still on. The only time it's off is when the kids are asleep. He knows it's near their bed time, but part of him hopes they're still awake so he can kiss them goodnight too.

Derek pictures his kids' precious faces in his mind and a smile forms across his face. He is living the dream he's had since he was a little boy, a dream he had at one time begun to lose hope in. He was the nerdy kid in high school. The boy girls didn't even give a second look. He was a band geek and couldn't get a girl to go to prom with him if he begged her. His first serious relationship had come after high school, in college. Addison was the only woman he'd ever been serious about. At the time, he thought she was the one he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. He'd always pictured her as the mother of his children; that they would raise their children in the brownstone and spend their summers in the Hamptons.

That future was ripped from his head when he found Addison in bed with his best friend. Then, he met Meredith, and suddenly everything came in to prospective. Meredith replaced Addison in his fantasies, and his fantasies with Meredith were much deeper, and felt so much more real. And now they were a reality.

He was a world-class neurosurgeon with two amazing children. That's what he's always wanted. He has it all.

His eyes are heavy, though. It feels like ages since he's slept. He's groggy, though it's a good groggy. Derek learned years ago that his best days came from the ones he received little sleep. And now, for the first time in his life, reality was better than whatever dreams could give him.

Sometimes he misses the childless nights at Joe's. Sometimes he even misses chasing Meredith. In a way, he thrived off it. But now he has her, and she's his forever, and he's forever grateful. At this very moment, though, he is missing Mark. He still can't believe his best friend is gone. He's forever grateful for Mark and the impact he put on his life. Heck, if it hadn't been for Mark, Derek realizes he might never have met Meredith. It's because he walked in on Mark with Addison that Derek was pushed to leave New York and come to Seattle. It was all part of his life's journey. There's a reason for everything in life, isn't there?

_This is how it's supposed to be, _Derek thinks as he opens his car door and the chilly air brushes across his face. His shoe hits the sticky mud and Derek shakes his head, noting how useful a cement driveway would be at that time. He jingles his keys, preparing to use them to unlock the door when he gets to the front door; Meredith generally locks the door when she is home alone with the kids. He heads to the front door and is immediately surprised when he sees the door is wide open. He turns the knob and steps inside the house.

He sees his daughter's shoes on the mat on the right. Then, his eyes wander around the house. It's unusually tidy and looks as if Meredith might have spent time tidying the house up today. He walks through the living room and sees that Zola's tea set is laid out on the center table. It's nothing out of the ordinary, because he knows how much his three-year-old daughter loves tea parties.

Yet, something does feel off. He doesn't want to speak because doesn't want to wake the kids if they're sleeping. Then, he sees the light shining in his kids' room, and the door is slightly cracked open. "Mer?" Derek calls as he walks toward the kids' room. "I'm home!" He walks toward his children's bedroom and pushes the cracked door open. "Mer-" he stops, when he sees the room is completely empty. Zola's bed is still neatly made, though Bailey's blanket is missing from his crib. He notices Zola's stuffed animals are scattered across the floor. He turns around and begins heading toward his bedroom. He calls his wife's name again.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Something feels wrong. He continues to call his wife's name, and then his children's. Normally, Zola is fast to wrap her arms around him when he walks through the door at daycare. He's usually home with the kids before Meredith. This is the first time Meredith has pick the kids up in a while.

"Mer?" he calls softly as he opens the bedroom door. The room is dark, and he notices the curtains are wide open. Meredith always has to have the curtains open. She says she likes to wake up to the sun shining in her face. At night, she likes to have the moonlight shining in her face. Her favorite nights are the nights where there is a full moon. For several months after the plane crash, she insisted they sleep with the lights on. After being in the woods in the dark for almost a week, she developed a deathly fear of the dark. When Meredith is home, she always insists on having every light in the house on, because she is terrified walking into a dark room. He thinks it is silly, especially since their electric bill is now outrageous.

He thinks the room is empty. The soft blue cotton comforter covers the white sheets. The top of the bed is neatly creased, and the white pillows are in a neat, stationary position, as if they're calling him to lie head down upon them.

In the corner of his eye, Derek spots the first signal that something is gruesomely wrong. He sees a red drizzle on the wooden floor that seems to be traveling farther through the cracks of the wood. His heart begins to pound as he nervously walks toward the trail. It's not long before he sees his wife lying on her back. His heart drops into the pit of the stomach. Her face is frozen with a terrified expression. He sees the stabs that have been torn into her neck as blood oozes from her skin. She lies in a pool of her own blood.

"Meredith!" he cries loudly. His neck is throbbing; perhaps he's experiencing sympathy pains for his wife. He doesn't take time to realize he's standing in his wife's blood. He falls to his knees and his arms wrap around his wife. "NO!" Derek yells, and he continues to repeat the word as he wraps his arms around Meredith. Her blood covers his shirt and pants, but all he can think about is the fact that he is holding his wife's bloody, limp body. Tears melt from his eyes as he strokes her hair that was once so soft. It too is soaked with blood. The metallic scent fills his nostrils.

The impending urge to kill the person who's responsible throbs throughout his entire body. It's then he realizes he's contaminated the crime scene with his own fibers. He sets his wife down and looks into her faded blue eyes. _Please let this be a bad nightmare, _he thinks. He pinches himself, but nothing happens. The love of his life has been murdered.

Derek fumbles as he finds his balance again, and then his eyes widen.

"Where are the children?" he says out loud. He screams his kids' names, but he knows they are not in the house. Whoever murdered his wife also kidnapped his children.

He wipes the blood off his hand and digs his cell phone out of his pocket. A trickle of blood still manages to get on the back of the phone. He dials 911.

"This is Dr. Derek Shepherd," he reports hoarsely. "My wife has been murdered, and my children have been kidnapped!"

* * *

**Four hours earlier…**

He set his scalpel down and his lips formed a satisfactory smile. Derek had in fact cut back on surgeries in respect for his wife, though he still was pulled into emergency surgeries on occasions. It had been one of those surgeries. One of the neuro fellows had misdiagnosed a patient, and he'd realized his mistake only after he had made his cuts. Luckily, Derek had been able to reverse the fellow's error and had saved the patient.

It was just past five o'clock, and Derek felt like he was ready to crash. He vividly remembered the early days of his surgical career. Every surgery was a high. Now, he just felt exhausted-like an old man. The rush wasn't there anymore. The surgical high cease to exist. He still loved cutting, but it didn't have the same effect on him as it once did.

His mind wasn't on the surgery. He was thinking about Meredith, Zola, and Bailey. He tried to remember what it was like before he became a father. He and Meredith had tried for so long to get pregnant, and after so many failed attempts, it had begun to feel like it might never be a reality. He'd promised Meredith that one day they would be parents, and he'd kept his promise. Now, they had two beautiful little angels.

He'd never realized how difficult parenting was. There wasn't a moment he regretted it, though. Every time he looked in his kids' eyes, he his heart warmed. He would never trade cradling his son in his arms for anything. He even enjoyed Zola's tea parties. Every moment with his kids was precious, and he enjoyed every moment, because he knew they would only be little once. It wouldn't be long before they were teenagers, and then they would hate him. He dreaded the day.

Derek didn't know how his mother had raised five kids on her own after his father had died. Of course, Nancy, Kate, and Liz had all been teenagers by then. He was twelve, and Amelia was only five. Derek couldn't imagine raising five kids on his own, specifically three teenaged girls. He was already dreading Zola's teen years. She was three and already knew how to submit people to her will. That was a trait she'd gotten from her mother. He'd already promised Meredith that she could have a year with the kids when Zola started dating, because he certainly didn't want to be around for that. Though, he knew he would be the overprotective father who ran background checks on all his daughter's boyfriends.

As he left the scrub room, he headed toward his office. He was considering grabbing his coat and heading home to be with Meredith and the kids. It'd been so long since they'd had a moment with just the four of them. It was still early, though it was the time Derek was used to leaving work on a typical day. Of course, there had been a few nights he'd been at the hospital later. He hated doing that to the kids. He liked to have them home before five whenever possible.

He passed Shane and Cristina as he was heading toward his office. Derek inhaled a sigh. He knew Cristina and Meredith were at odds, and it was honestly starting to get on his nerves. It was somewhat ironic because he remembered a time he would have killed for Meredith to pour her heart to him instead of Cristina. Now that she wasn't speaking to Cristina, Meredith seemed to be ranting twenty-four-seven. He loved his wife to deaf and wanted to support her in every way possible, but now he just wanted her to have "her person" back so he didn't have to hear about it anymore.

He'd barely seen Cristina in the past weeks, so he hadn't heard her side of the story. All he knew was she had taken over Meredith's printer in an attempt to save a baby and had apparently been successful. Meredith had implicated that Cristina had told her she couldn't be a mother and a surgeon. Derek assured her that wasn't true, and he was shocked that Cristina would even say that. He'd asked her if she was sure that she'd heard Cristina correctly, but that had pissed Meredith off even more. He'd learned then to keep his mouth shut and to just let her rant. The last thing he wanted was for her to be pissed at him too. He hadn't forgotten the day that he'd come home from work to her yelling at him about not answering his phone while he was in surgery.

He'd known she had a point. She was just starting her career as a surgeon, while he had years under his belt. He had patients all around the country which traveled to Seattle just to see him. Meredith needed time to shine, and being a mother wasn't a reason to slow her down. That's when he'd made his decision to step back to allow her to shine.

He took a deep sigh and turned around. "Hey, Cristina," he said. Cristina whipped around and Shane turned too. Shane made eye contact with Derek and raised an eyebrow.

"You feeling all right, Dr. Shepherd? You look like you need a nap. The on-call rooms are on this floor." Shane pointed in the direction of an on-call room.

"Thank you, Shane. I think I know where the on-call rooms are located, considering I started working in this hospital before you even started medical school," Derek responded dryly.

"And you've banged your wife in all of them," added Cristina. Derek's eyes widened, alarmed by Cristina's comment, even though it was true. He was even more surprised by Cristina's willingness to say that in front of a resident. "Hey, we've all done it," she shrugged, and he looked back and forth between Shane and Cristina. The connections went off in his brain. She was sleeping with him.

Derek didn't say anything. "Okay, then. Hey, I was just wondering, when are you going to be done using Mer's printer? You know, she did work really hard on the grant to get the printer, and I'm not trying to start anything here…"

"Oh, Gosh, Derek. Not you too. Look, I know you're automatically going to side with Mer because she's your wife—"

"—Hold on now. I'm not taking _sides_. I was asking a question," Derek said slowly.

"Look, Shepherd, if you have a concern with Dr. Yang's use of the printer, you can take it up with the board," Shane cut in.

Derek froze, turning to Shane. "Ross, I don't appreciate the tone in your voice."

"Look, we get it. You and Grey have traded booze for diapers and formula. Boohoo. Go cry to someone who cares. Maybe you need to have a night away from your cry baby wife and have some fun. Go to Joe's, have a few drinks, and what your wife doesn't know won't hurt her," Shane Ross responded in a smart-aleck tone. Derek couldn't believe his ears.

"Excuse me, Dr. Ross, but you do _not _speak to me like that," replied Derek in a very stern tone. "I am an attending, and I'm also on the board. Now, it's in your best interest to get out of my face. _Now_!"

"Yeah, fine, but you know I'm right," retorted Shane slyly and walked away. Cristina gave Derek one final glance before following after her resident.

Derek sighed. His heart was pumping faster, and unfortunately, he knew Ross was right about one thing: It had been forever since he'd had a drink at Joe's.

_What Meredith doesn't know won't hurt her. _

The words replayed in his head.

One drink wouldn't hurt, would it?

He looked at the time. Quarter to six. It was still early. The bar wouldn't be crowded yet, and he might even be able to slip in and out without anyone other than Joe seeing him.


End file.
